Remember Me
by AniOchevetOtcha
Summary: "When the Manipulated awaken from their Journey into the Tangent Universe, they are often haunted by the experience in their dreams." Donnie/Frank slash. Rating may be subject to change in later chapters.
1. October Third 1988

October 3rd 1988

Have you ever felt like you're stuck in a tennis ball, and every time you say something, you grow? It feels like I'm being hit back and forth, and every time I scream there is less and less room for me to breathe. I scream in pain, until I shout, until I cry, until I whisper, and then nothing. I'm helpless. I'm helpless, being tossed back and forth over a court of fucking fire, and the players think they are trying to help me. My best friend serves me to my girlfriend, she hits, he hits, she hits… this goes on for almost a month. Sometimes there were other players, my mom, therapist, sister, teacher, and friends. They all thought that I needed their specific help. I didn't. I knew what had to be done. I could have done it so differently, perfectly. I wouldn't have been so tortured, and hurt. They wouldn't have been so hurt… The only thing that I really know right now is that the sky opened up yesterday. The sky opened up and killed me, so that they all could live.

I'm dead, right? I should be, but every so often, I know this sounds weird, but… I hear this very monotonous beeping noise. Everything is black, but there is this beeping noise. It's soft, but every hour (or, at least I think it's an hour) it grows louder and louder.

"Frank, what is that?"

No answer, "Frank?" I look around me, but everything is dark. Where is he? I need him. I'm alone, and scared, and cold. The therapist said it would just be me and him, right? So, then, where is he? "Frank!" I shout.

Nothing, just the beeping. I walk. I don't know if you can call it walking, or floating, but it's all the same. Nothing around me changes, so I give up and sit down, cradling my head in my arms. "Frank, I'm afraid." My nose stings, telling me that I'm probably crying. "Fuck." I hate this. I've been stuck in here for way too long, my head hurts, I'm hungry, and I need a jacket.

Wait. I'm hungry? How can I be hungry? You know, maybe I'm in Hell. I hear that down there, you can eat and eat and you still won't be full. But why would I be in Hell? I saved everyone. Didn't I?

"I'm sorry," my head whips up. "I left you alone…" I get up slowly, "I didn't mean to."

"Frank?" he's… not in the costume. "Why are you…"

"I have… some good news." The corners of his mouth turn up in a slight smile, but it also looks hurt. "You… are alive." He chuckles, and starts to walk away. The darkness dims into white, and I feel like I'm being pushed backwards.

"Frank! Frank, what's going on? Where are you going! Don't leave me alone, you fuck!"

"Wake up, Donnie."

I fall. I keep falling, and I never hit ground. My head hurts immensely, my stomach growls, my nervous system completely floods over into my mind, and thunderous pain crashes in my chest. I can feel people's eyes on me. I hear voices, but I can't make out the words. They're fast, flying across my line of vision. It's blurry, but there are three figures standing by me, talking, one of them… is crying?

"'Vrythin's okay." I try to talk, but it comes out as a whisper. They hold my hand, tighter and tighter. "'Vrythin's gonna be okay." I smile a little, and rest. Finally.


	2. October Fourth 1988

October 4th 1988

I'm in intensive care. The wood punctured my stomach and left lung, but nothing else. It didn't go very far in. It's a miracle that I am still alive, I saw a picture of the aftermath, and _Jesus_, did I look horrible. I nearly puked. My sister is sitting next to me, talking to me about Harvard, and how square it's going to be there. She's heard that there aren't many parties, at least, not the kind we like. Bottom line, there's no booze, and no chronic. I don't really smoke, but she does. A helluva lot, too. I'm not paying attention though, my mind is on other matters.

"Elizabeth?" I ask, interrupting her. She looks at me, questioningly. "…What's your boyfriend's name?" She laughs, as if I just made a really perverted joke.

"That's it?" I raise an eyebrow, "You've been lost in your own head for almost two hours, and _that's_ what you ask me?"

"I'm just trying to make sure of something."

"Well, I don't see how this fits in to anything that has happened." She motions with her hands, quickly. "I mean, you nearly get your lung ripped out the other side, and you want to know about my _love life_?" She scoffs.

"Look, I just-" My voice catches in my throat as a tall, tan boy of maybe 19 walks into my room. Elizabeth gets up and hugs him. They kiss for a split second, and she sits again.

"Hey babe." His voice...

I try to say something, but nothing comes out. I have cotton mouth, and a really, really bad case of heart flutters. "Donnie, this is Frank." The brunette waves her hand to him, "My boyfriend." She turns to him, "Ready to go? I'm done here." He nods.

"I…" I can't talk.

"…Lizzy, can I talk to him for just a sec, I'll be right out. Here's the keys, don't change the tunes." He tosses my sister his car keys and scoots her out of the room, closing the door behind her. "How are you feeling?"

"I… Is it really you?" I reach out, my hand actually touches his eye. No water wall, nothing. "I can…"

"Donnie." He brushes my hand off, "I don't… remember." He looks at his shoes. "Grandma Death… she told me about what happened, she told me that it might take years to remember, the same for Gretchen." He flips his long, chocolate brown hair out of his face, his eyes look sad. "Gretchen-"

"_What_? You don't remember _any_ of it?" He shakes his head, "Nothing?" Again, he shakes his head and looks at me for the first time since he's walked into the room. "Y… You… I… okay," I tear up, "I can wait."

"I'm so sorry." Oh **God**…

"_Don't_… _apologize_ to me, _not_ like that." My shoulders tremble a bit, "You _don't_ need to apologize." I look sternly at Frank. "I don't deserve it."

"Why?" There it is. It's so simple, so blunt. Why don't I deserve an apology? I shot you. That's why. I shot you, even after you showed to me how sorry you were.

None of that comes out of my mouth, though. "Nothing… nothing." I press the up button on my chair and adjust my seat. I fidget, biting my bottom lip lightly. "So you and Elizabeth are going together?" He smiles and nods. "How long?"

"Two months last week. She's great." He seems so happy… why does my heart hurt so much?

"I'm glad for you, Frank. You two look good." I glance at him, he's smiling thoughtfully at me.

"Why do I feel like I know you so well?" he says, softly. Man, this is hard… His hand sits on my bed rail, thumb rubbing back and forth. I focus on it.

"You were my best friend." I laugh, it comes out sad. My eyes close and I hear him sigh in thought. "Don't worry. I still have…" Well, no one. Not really, anyways. I have the guys, but they didn't have my back like Frank did. They wanted to run away that night when Seth jumped us...

"Donnie," I look up, he's gotten closer, "I do remember one thing." I perk up a bit, and he clears his throat. "I wake you up, and tell you that the world is going to end. You ask me why, and then we walk together to the golf field. We sit on a dune for a while, just looking at the sky, and then you tell me… you tell me that you want me to protect you." My heart aches, and I frown a little. Frank is still staring me down. "Is this my fault? Was I not protecting you?"

"**No**!" I say a little louder than necessary, and he jumps back a bit. "No, _no, no, no_. This isn't your fault. _Please_, no. You dropped Elizabeth off and actually beeped the car a lot. I think you were trying to get me out of there…" He sighs, relieved.

"Well… I'm glad that I didn't fuck up." He smiles widely, and puts his hand on mine, "You feel better, okay? I want to talk more. A lot more." He gets up to leave.

"Frank?"

"Yeah?" he turns around.

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" he asks quietly.

"You'll remember."

He smiles sadly, gives me a small salute, and walks out.


	3. October Sixth 1988

October 6th 1988

"Ugh," I'm so bored. All I can do is sit here, check out (ugly) nurses, and watch one of five channels on the small television in the corner of my room. CNN, Family, ABC, the home channel, and something with nuns on it. Middlesex really doesn't spare it's luxury, does it?

I turn on the TV, and switch it from nuns, to ABC. Richie Rich is on, I hate this show, but whatever, Scooby doesn't come on until around eight, and by then I'm conked out on pain meds. I lean back and take a sip from the cup of water they gave me. There's too much ice in it, and my teeth ache.

Two days ago, my friend Frank visited me I smile, thinking about it. He looked so… normal, not menacing like he usually does. He actually sounded caring and concerned, not wispy and evil. He's perfect now, with both eyes. He doesn't remember any of that, thank God. I don't think that he'd talk to me ever again if he found out. I wouldn't blame him, it was a horrible thing to do in the heat of the moment. I need to think before I do something. Especially with a gun.

I don't know why, but I really want to talk to him more. It's like that feeling you get when you meet someone really great, and you never want to stop talking to them. My heart hurts every time I think about that confused expression he gave me, his sad eyes, his hand gently resting on mine… No. Stop, Donnie. But I don't. I smile wider and keep thinking about that day. I know I shouldn't, because he's untouchable. Completely straight, and with my sister. It's sick, you're disgusting Donnie. I know I am, but he makes me sick like this. He always did. Him, and his perfect smile, deep voice, and soft hair that hangs just past his chin. I'm not going to stop, thinking about him gives me the best feeling in the world. It might be mean to myself, but just the thought of him makes me get the chills.

Someone knocks on the door, and I'm pushed out of my stupor. I lick the drool off of my lips; when I'm focusing on something I forget to do even the simplest of motor functions. I flick the TV off, snuggle into my covers, and try to appear as ill as possible. "Come in," I croak, innocently.

It's Frank, bringing me my school work. We've agreed that he'll bring it to me every two days, and tutor me on what I've missed. He smiles brightly at me, struggling to carry both backpacks through the small doorway. The doctors say that I'll be in for about two weeks, that's… five visits. I slouch over at this realization. "Hey, will you still see me after I'm better?" I ask, quietly from behind the sheet draped over my mouth.

He blinks, stopping halfway in the doorway. "What kind of question is that? I'm not even in your room yet, and you miss me?" He chuckles, "I must be really good." Frank brushes his shoulder off after putting the bags down.

"Don't flatter yourself," I blush, "I'm just…"

"Being clingy?" I fake laugh at his joke. He smirks at me, and gets my books out of my bag. He drops them on the side table, and sends my cup of water flying. It crashes on my crotch, spilling all over the place. "Oops." he deadpans.

"Frank…" I look down, and then back up at him, "I'm going to kill you." I lunge at his neck with two open hands. He grabs them and squeezes, hard.

"Whoa, killer!" he laughs harder, "I'll fix it, I'll fix it!" the brunette lets go of my hands and runs out to get me a change of clothes, and probably bed sheets. Fucking bunny-man… Ugh, it's so damp.

I'd never actually choke Frank, but this is really embarrassing. I mean, it looks like I pissed myself, and my bed is soaked. I have to sleep on this, you know! I may be really monotone, but I have a shitty temper.

"Ug," I try to get out of bed. My stitches hurt like hell, and even the smallest amount of movement from the waist up sends searing pain through my lung. "fuck Frank." I mumble. Getting far enough on the bed, I swing my legs over the side and try to steady myself. I haven't actually stood up on my own yet, so I have some trouble trying to balance on both feet. I push myself one inch off of the bed before falling back. I try again and make it about halfway up before Frank comes in, running to my side. "I can do it myself." I whine.

"My ass you can do it yourself." he sets my down in the beige chair next to my bed. "Oh, Donnie…" he frowns, "Your stitches are bleeding." he grabs a paper towel, wets it, and hands it to me. I undo my gown from the top and he winces, seeing the stitching in my skin for the first time. I dab at the blood lightly. "What were you thinking!" I freeze.

'_What were you guys doing in the middle of the road? What were you __**thinking**__!_'

I blink, and look up at him. "I'm sorry." My vision blurs with tears, "I'm so-s-sorry." My shoulders start to shake horribly. "Frank, I'm so sorry."

"Whoa, whoa, hold on." he puts his hand out, afraid to touch me, "Come on man, I didn't mean to yell at you. Don't cry, Donnie? Donnie, come on." he pats my back. I lean into his chest and he starts to rub his hand in a circle. "Everything's okay." he shushes me, "I'll still protect you."

I laugh into his shirt, "O-okay."

"Okay? Cool?" he leans back and looks at me, "You're so young… how can someone so young be so troubled?" I shrug.

"Some people are just born with tragedy in their blood." I smirk, and wipe my chin of tears.

"…what?"

"Gretchen told me something like that once." I offer. "I think I understand what she means now." he takes this in for a moment, and then looks me straight in the eyes.

"Donnie…" he hesitates, "you're soaking wet," he laughs a little bit, and ruffles my hair, "change, okay?" I nod. He hands me the new gown and I ask him for a pair of fresh boxers from my suitcase. He does as told and turns around so I can have some privacy. I undress quietly, and as fast as possible as you can in a chair. It's difficult, but I get halfway without help.

"Uh, can I have some help with tying this?" he glances over his shoulder, and seeing that I'm decent, turns around to aid me. He holds up the garment and I slip my arms through the holes, "Ugh. These things are so annoying. They feel like paper." he grunts, sympathizing, and ties it in the back.

"There you go, kiddo." he pats my shoulder, "You want me to do your sheets?"

"Sure, if you want." he smiles and gets to it, "Hey, can you hand me my vicodin?" he tosses me my pills and I pop two in my mouth. "Thanks." he takes them from me and sets them back down on my table. "Sorry if I start to act weird, they get me really whacky."

"More than you are already? Oh joy." he spreads my top sheet on and claps his hands together, "Done!" Frank turns towards me, proudly smiling. "Now… it's about five. Let's watch something for about an hour, and then I'll let you go to sleep, alright?" God, why is he so nice to me. Maybe it's just because I'm Liz's little brother. Seeing my expression, the tan boy leans down to look me in the eyes. "You okay? Is something wrong?" he helps me back into bed, I wobble a little bit on the way, but I get situated eventually. I put the cover back over my mouth and chew on it.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I close my eyes, waiting for an answer. He gulps, and rubs his hands on his jeans. I can tell that I've put him in an awkward position.

"You're a good kid, Donnie. I wouldn't want anything to happen to you. You saved my life, didn't you?" No. Yes, I don't know. "You saved everyone. I mean, you're a hero. Just…"

"No one knows it, right?" I take a quick look at him, he's staring intensely at me. Those deep brown eyes… he blinks and lays on the bed next to me.

"You deserve recognition that no one seems to be giving you. And… I think there's something between us that is just making me want you to be happy." He looks at the ceiling, "Is that weird?"

"N…no. I want you to be happy, too." I uncover my mouth and scoot over, giving him more room. He takes it gladly, and puts his arm around my shoulder. I shiver.

"I am happy." he smirks at me, and grabs the remote. "Now, what do you want to watch?" his hair flips over his shoulder and he turns the TV on. I don't buy it, but I chuckle at him and think.

"How about… Married with Children?" I laugh, he won't get the joke, but the least I can do is try to jog his memory. I always felt like he was watching me, even if I couldn't see him with my own eyes. He makes a face at me, and doesn't change the channel. It'll come on in a few minutes. I sigh, and lean my head into his shoulder, getting sleepy. The meds are kicking in. "You have a nice face." I giggle.

"You're high, Donnie." he pats my head.

"No, well, yeah, but I still like your face. You're pretty." he looks down at me for a second, and then back at the screen as the show comes on. "Do you think you and Liz will get married?"

"…" he thinks, "No," Frank mumbles, "your sister is great and everything, but she's not someone that I have a really good connection with. You know?" Christina Applegate walks on screen and I stifle a laugh.

"She's such a fuckass." I grab his hand from my head and wrap his arm around me, "Well, if you two don't work out, I call dibs."

"I…What's a fuckass?"


	4. Dream: of my Loves

Dream of My Love(s)

I had a dream while laying in his arms… I had a dream about Halloween night. Reliving those moments where I realized what I had just done. I was stuck; I was stuck between two people I loved and they were both dead because of me. If I had not gone looking for Cellar Door, Gretchen would've never died, and I wouldn't have shot him. I can't believe I did that. It hit me after he fell to the ground with that look on his face… this is what he was so sorry for.

'_Why did I do that? Donnie, you _**fucking** _piece of _**shit**.'

I dropped the gun, dropped to my knees, and cried. I had an honest cry with myself for once.

I looked at Gretchen, still as beautiful as ever, her skin still glowing with her last breath of life. God she was so perfect; her face was made of gentle curves and angelic features. Hair, draped over her right cheek, I brushed it aside and kissed her for one last time. I could have sworn that her lips were still warm.

I looked at Frank, still as handsome as ever, his skin bronze with life that didn't have a chance to be fulfilled. He was perfect, but in a way so separate from Gretchen. He was strong featured, with the most gorgeous hint of Oriental blood in those glaring, venomous eyes. They controlled me in the way that Gretchen never could. I crawled to him and lifted him of the curse that he had been bound to, the suit.

'_Why do you wear that stupid bunny suit?'_

'**WHY DO YOU WEAR THAT STUPID MAN SUIT?' **_Oh. _

I leaned him up against his beloved car, _"I'm so sorry." _I pressed my lips to his forehead and stroked his cheek. _"Thank you for taking good care of us." _I called the police, and looked at him for one last time. He looked so... Tortured.

'**IT'S TIME.'**

I smirked sadly, took Gretchen into my arms and passed Menacing Frank with a longing look. _"Frank?" _He looked down at me in response, _"Was falling in love with you part of the plan?" _He moved his head back up, and I took it as my cue to leave. I got maybe 50 yards before I heard a soft whisper from behind me.

'**DONNIE...' **I turned my head to look at him, he took his mask off and was smiling at me, **'YOU'RE WELCOME.' **I grinned, he grinned, we were both, finally, at peace.


	5. October Eighth 1988

October 8th 1988

"So X equals negative B, plus or minus radical B squared, plus negative four times A times C all divided by two times A." Frank sighs, again explaining a math concept to me that I missed in the past week. "Can you try this problem?" I look down, 'No,' but I press my pencil to paper and try anyways, it makes him happy, so why not try.

It's Saturday, I shouldn't have to do this, but he's making me learn on the weekend. I guess I have nothing else better to do, considering how crippled I am. The sun isn't out, though. I wouldn't want to waste a sunny day, even if I have to drag all of the machines with me I'd rather just sit outside than in here. This place stinks like sweaty dick and old people. It's crawling with them, too. The old people, not sweaty dicks, I mean, that would be weird. Like pink caterpillars. I burst out laughing, thinking about this. Frank gives me a look.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I shake my head at him, and continue working. "Uh… there will be two answers to this one, right?" he nods, "I'm stuck." I say, and twiddle my pencil in my mouth. The brunette snatches it, wipes it on his shirt, and teaches me how to factor the huge number in front of me. He circles the answer and holds the pencil out to me. "…oh."

"Uh huh, you make it harder than it needs to be." Well, I can't concentrate when you're sitting so close to me… you smell like aftershave and fresh cut grass. It's rather distracting. I stick my tongue out at him and try it on my own. "So, not to side track you or anything, but did you ever get caught for flooding the school?"

"You remember that?" I raise an eyebrow, not looking at him. I think I have the answer… no. Crap.

"Yeah." he puts simply, and shifts positions, making my bed shake a little bit. "You have to think about the highest perfect square…" he mumbles, looking at my paper.

I grunt and erase what I've written and look at him, he senses this and meets my eyes, "Why'd you make me do that, anyways?" he tilts his head, "Flood the school."

"Oh," he looks back down and nibbles on his forefinger, "Gretchen." Frank licks his lips nervously, "I was supposed to make you talk to her some way," he closes his eyes in frustration, "I don't know why, though." his fingers massage his temples slowly.

"Does it hurt?"

"What?"

"Remembering." he blinks and looks at me, then nods a little. "Sorry… don't try to, then. I can just talk if you want. Maybe help you remember?" His eyes soften and move to the ceiling, as if he were trying to stop crying. "Do you want one of my pain pills?" his fingers drum on my text book, and he tentatively nods. "…kay." I smile and wiggle a little to be able to reach my pills, I open the bottle, sift one out, break it in half, then decide to just give him the whole thing, "Here," I drop the halves in his hand and give him my water, "It'll take maybe ten, fifteen minutes for them to kick in." Frank gulps them down with water and clicks his tongue on the roof of his mouth.

"Bad aftertaste." he shivers, "Like chalk." I nod and laugh a little bit, "Are these like, _horse tranquilizers_? They're _huge_."

"Oh stop complaining, you'll be _better_ than better soon." I poke his side with my elbow and he twitches away from me, grinning.

"Well, if I'm even _half _as cooky as you were the other day you might not want to be in the same bed as me. You were so _weird_, man." his long hair bounces around his shoulders, catching the light perfectly. It looks so soft… oh there my attention span goes again.

"I'm always that weird." I shrug, "I just keep it inside." he scratches his ear with his shoulder.

"I dunno, dude. Whatever you say."

"Anyways, I'm supposed to tell you that story, right?" he nods and reclines on my bed. "Okay, it was the sixth, and it was raining out…" I continue the story for a good half hour until his Motorola starts ringing, it's Liz. They were supposed to go out tonight for dinner, apparently he missed his time for picking her up. I could hear her screaming over the small phone. Man was she pissed. Frank held it far away from his ear, staring at me with this blank face that I couldn't put any emotion to. He mouths something along the lines of, 'Save me.' I wink and start to whine, "_Frank_, my stitches hurt _so bad_, I think I'm _bleeding_. _FRANK! Help _me! I need someone to get me to the _sink_!" Liz shuts up and he smiles in relief.

"Okay, yes I'll be home as soon as possible. I'll tell him. Love you, too. Bye." he hangs up and stares at the phone, then breaks into horrible laughter. "That was great, kid." he gasps for air, "I can't believe she fell for that." Frank makes this 'hoo' noise, trying to calm down. "A-huh, uh, anyways, your sister says get better."

"Do you really love her?" I don't know where that came from, but my new set just came in, I guess. This could turn very wrong, very fast. He's almost half a foot taller than me, and probably 30 pounds heavier. I look down immediately, not wanting to see his face.

He sighs, "It's more complicated than that. I thought I did, but ever since this whole situation, I'm starting to doubt everything that I know." his thumb traces circles on his knee, the denim wrinkles along with the motions. "I'm remembering things that I don't think could happen. Feelings that I don't understand." he clenches and unclenches his fists. "Donnie, I feel like…" he holds onto a thought, teeth biting his lower lip, both fists facing upward, and then he lets go, "never mind." he shakes his head, and smirks.

"No, what?" I ask, clinging onto every word.

"It's stupid."

"_Nothing_ you say is stupid." his head tilts up, eyes wide at how raw my words came out, "Look, do you want to know something?" I mess my hair up, and make a grunting noise, "Okay, when you were a… whatever you were, you _never _talked to me. You _always_ just _nodded_ or _moved your head_, or answered me with _one word _sentences. It was so _frustrating_! No matter _what_ I asked you, no matter _how_ complex the question, you _always _just _stared _at me in _silence_! Then one day I _finally _get you to let your guard down a little bit, and it was _fantastic_, I actually felt like you accepted me as a friend. I could hear _you_, not that evil monotone that you were infected with… Frank," I grab his hand, "_everything_ that you say to me is important. _Nothing_ that you say, will ever, _ever_ be stupid." I breathe in and let go, closing my eyes.

"…" he looks at his phone, it's 5:33 pm. Thunder rages outside, and the lights flicker a little. My TV turns off. "I should go." he doesn't look at me.

"…Okay." I let my head bow and I bring my knees to my chest. "Say 'hi' to my sister for me." he gets up and walks to the door, opens it and hesitates. "What?" Oh, please say something. Please… please… I feel so stupid.

Frank opens his mouth, closes it, and purses his lips, "I'll see you Monday." the door closes behind him with an extra loud 'click,' this time.

"Fuck…" I start to shake. "FUCK!" I sob, and throw my text book at the door after him.

I hate myself so fucking much right now.

'_Don't leave me alone, you fuck!'_


	6. October Tenth 1988

October 10th 1988

I'm having that dream again, shooting him. This time, however, no smiles are exchanged, just blood. Just all of the blood pouring out of his eye. I feel sick, I want to throw up, I'm sobbing uncontrollably, fuck, _fuck, __**fuck**_. I'm screaming now, I'm screaming fuck, I'm screaming God, I'm screaming for mercy, and most importantly I'm screaming his name. Between sobbing and screaming I hear someone very far off saying something to me, I'm being shaken, and I bolt up in bed and start to cry for real, still shouting his name, my voice hoarse from the pressure. I can barely catch my breath, and snot is covering my upper lip. Whoever is sitting next to me is freaked out, and shifts away from me, I don't realize it's to get me a tissue. I grab at it and wipe my whole face off, still shaking like a cold puppy. I sniffle, and dab at my eyes, trying to clear my vision. "Augh, God… I'm so sorry."

'**FOR WHAT?'**

I freeze, that voice. Chills are sent up and down my spine, and I turn to look. It's a man in a suit, with a scary mask that is all too familiar. My mouth stretches into a big smile and I start to cry again, "Is that really you?"

'**I WILL BE,' **he tilts his head up to the ceiling and thinks, **'ONE DAY.' **My stomach drops a little, but I still smile a little bit.

He's sitting on the edge of my bed, not looking towards me. I lay upright, and try to figure out what he is looking at. My hand reaches out to his back. "Frank?" It hits his fur with a soft 'pat.' "Why can I touch you?"

'**CAN YOU TOUCH HIM?' **his head tilts back down and he waits.

"I don't know anymore." I sigh, and rub my hand back and forth over his shoulders, the fake fabric feel so soft against my left palm. "I want to," I shrug, "but I think I did something wrong. I think I opened up too much too fast." Frank nods slowly, and turns around, bringing one knee up onto the bed. "How is your eye?" Frank lowers his head and lets me slip his mask off, it's still damaged. "You haven't changed a bit…" I bring my fingers from his shoulder, to his cheek, just letting it lay there for a moment or two. He leans his head into my touch, and I push forward, "Frank?" he blinks and looks up at me. "Did you ever love me?" his eyebrows relax and he closes his eye again.

'**DONNIE…' **Frank smirks like he usually does, and hesitates, **'I CAN'T ANSWER THAT.' **my eyes start to sting, stomach feeling even sicker.

"Why!" I whine, "Why can't you ever tell me anything? You never give me a straight answer! Will I ever be able to get anything out of you?" he looks a little shocked, "You don't act like you even care. At all." he sits up abruptly and pushes his finger into my chest, I inhale sharply.

'**DO NOT EVER SAY THAT AGAIN.' **I'm kind of scared, and it must show because his face immediately softens, **'I'M SORRY.' **his shoulders fall a little. **' I DO CARE. I WANT TO TELL YOU EVERYTHING, DONNIE. BUT IT ISN'T MY PLACE TO.' **he grabs my hand and leans back into it, breathing in deeply, with a small smile. I understand what he means, but I don't think I'll ever find out. Frank Anderson couldn't have left sooner, like I was diseased. I don't think he'll be coming back. I'm fine, right here, with Frank. My Frank, the Frank that has always been here. Always seen everything. I pinch his chin in my fingers and make him look at me, he smiles wider, with me and I move down to kiss his forehead.

"I missed you."

He pulls away. **'I'VE BEEN WATCHING YOU.' **

"Like anything has changed," I chuckle, "that should creep me out, but I'm flattered."

'**I NEED TO WORK HARDER.' **Frank takes his gloves off and cups my face, **'I CAN'T STAY.' **His smile falters, but comes back.

I nod, "Yeah, but I don't care. You'll always be with me." he grins, "I'm not going to let go if you're not." His hair is glistening like it always was, and he smells just the same as I left him. "Frank…" I breathe out and rub my thumb across the bottom of his left eye. "Please tell me the truth," we're maybe two inches away from each other now, breath hitting faces, noses grazing, eyes blurring but also focusing so hard on what's in front of us, "I need to know."

'**DONNIE.' **

"…alright." I loosen my grip on him, and his tightens. I lean forward, and kiss his cheek. His grip tightens even more, as if he needs this more than I do, I bite my lower lip, "I love, you." His hands soften and bring us together. My eyes close, and we're connected for the longest five seconds I have ever lived. I pull back, and blink, Frank looks at the floor and smirks.

'**IT WAS PART OF IT.' **

"What?"

'**THE PLAN.' **I grin, and suppress a laugh.

"You're evil." I lean in to kiss him, for one last time. WE lay together then, for a long, long time. Me, on top of his chest, stroking his fur. Him, petting my hair down. I can finally touch him, and it makes me happier that I have ever been. Eventually, though, I nod off and when I wake up, he's gone. As if he's never even been here.

The tissue is still on the floor though, covered with my snot.

I feel bad for whoever has to clean up after me.

The phone rings, "Hello?" I pick it ip and quip, happily. The side effects of cuddling with him are still in tact. I'm giddy.

"Hi… Donnie, something happened to Elizabeth."


End file.
